RESISTλNCE
by twentyone AKA Charlie or Sin
Summary: Gordon Freeman awakens from stasis to a world drastically different to the one he knows, controlled by a galactic empire called 'the Combine', with the citizens of Earth on the verge of uprising. (**Based on the Half Life 2 Beta Storyline**) CURRENTLY ON HOLD. SORRY.
1. Awakening

Enjoy.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: AWAKENING

Gordon Freeman's eyes opened.

Warm blood rushed through his body.

His heart began to beat once more.

It was as if someone had pressed 'play' on a remote that controlled Gordon…and, in a way, they had.

Gordon began to comprehend his surroundings.

Or rather, lack of them.

He seemed to be in space, but was neither falling nor floating. He was simply… _there_. Suddenly, Gordon recognized the purplish hue around the stars, and the green tinge on every colour. This was the skyline of Xen, the border world between Earth and…where? He still didn't know.

Before he could think anymore, he heard what sounded like… _no_. _No way_. But, as it got closer, he could almost make out…the noise of a train?

Solid ground seemed to materialize under his feet, although he couldn't see it. Looking to his right, Gordon saw something very strange indeed.

A green steam train seemed to be hurtling right towards him.

He instinctively stepped back.

The front of the train whipped past him like a bullet, slowing down inch by inch, until the train slowed to a complete halt, the entrance directly in front of Gordon.

Before he could open it, though, it swung open and a cold breeze hit Gordon in the face. In the doorway stood the man who had ' _hired'_ him; the man whom he had thought was just a simple human being, a simple person doing his job for the Government;

A simple G-Man.

But Gordon knew he was much, _much_ more. You could already tell that he wasn't entirely human, if at all, the minute he opened his mouth.

"It-It's be _en_ a while, Doctor Free… _man."_ Each syllable was different; as if he was choosing between a library of different voices and just couldn't decide what he wanted to sound like.

The most unnerving thing was his manner of expression. His lips curled in a strange way and he licked his lips after every word, as if they were always dry.

He wore a dark blue suit and held a metallic silver briefcase, which was clasped in the long, pale fingers of his right hand.

He wore a black tie, which he constantly adjusted as he spoke, a sort of strange idiosyncrasy. The man beckoned to Gordon from the door of the train, and suddenly Gordon was drawn towards him, and his vision went black.

But suddenly, he was sitting at the back of a train. There were only a few other passengers, each in a blue jumpsuit, akin to ones from prisons he had seen, with CITY 17 written on a red armband.

The carriage was old and rusted, with peeling green paint on the insides and half-missing red carpeted floor. The seats were cold and metal. There were windows on either side of the carriage, with a door in the middle on the left side, and one on the right side.

Gordon looked to his right, and saw the G-Man sitting on the train next to him. "I tru _sss_ t you enjoyed your re _sssss_ t, Mr. Free… _man_?" He said, calmly, "Your," he paused, "…servi _cccc_ es are needed on _ccc_ e more."

"In the pa _sss_ t quarter-century, the planet Earth," he said 'Earth' like a disease, "…ha _sss_ been," he paused once more, searching for the word, "… _occupied_ by a large galactic empire; the Combine. I have… _dealt_ with the Combine before, but it _ssss_ eems that they have… _changed_."

He licked his lips, "After you," he paused, "…killed the Nihilanth, the Vortigaunts were _ssss_ et free from its' control, and began to… _migrate_ to Earth from Xen. The Combine, having previously _occupied_ the Vort homeworld, descended upon Earth…"

The G-man looked down at his watch. "It _ssss_ eems it is time for you to wake up, Mr. Freeman." He pronounced Freeman with obvious malice, "Wake up and _ssss_ mell the ashe _sss_." His voice faded into the background, as the noise of a train became louder, and Gordon's vision swam back into focus.

This train didn't seem to be frozen in time like the other one had been. People in the same jumpsuits with the armbands populated the seats, although the carriage was mostly empty. A dry wasteland was the only sight that could be seen through the windows, populated by Xenlians such as Bullsquids and Houndeyes.

The train halted, and a man got on. He had dirty black hair, looked to be of Asian descent and was carrying a small satchel. He sat down next to Gordon.

"Hi," said the man, "I'm Samuel." Gordon just nodded mutely. "I got off the train from City 14 a while back and I've just been waiting for another to pick me up."

This sparked Gordon's interest, "Wait…where exactly are we going?" Samuel looked at him, dumbfounded.

"How do you not know where you're going? Did you have earplugs in when you were transferred?" _'Transferred'?_ Gordon just shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so." Samuel chuckled, "I like you, uh…" Gordon put out his hand, "Gordon." He said, as Samuel shook it.

"You seriously don't know where you're going?" asked Samuel. Gordon shook his head. "You're heading for City 17, that's the worst one of the lot. It's almost like a labour camp, but with slightly better accommodation."

He sighed, "This is where the Consul operates from, so it's where the Combine operate from as well. It's by far the worst one of all. I've heard things," he said, in a low whisper, "The air is so bad around here you need to keep your gasmasks on all the time."

"Gasmasks?" asked Gordon. Samuel looked astounded, "You mean you don't even have a gasmask?" he asked. Gordon shook his head. Samuel reached into his satchel. "I always carry a spare around, so you're lucky. I still don't understand how you don't know these things, but…it's really not my business anyway."

He handed the mask to Gordon. "Here you go. Keep hold of it, and remember to put it on once we arrive at the train-station." Gordon nodded.

Samuel looked out through the windows, "Oh look," he said after a while, "The city walls." Gordon looked out the window. A large concrete wall towered high above the train. The sky was dark and greenish, with swirling grey clouds as if a storm would break out any time.

The pinnacle of this city that he could see so far, though, was a large black building reaching up into the sky, with a large circle of clouds swarming around the top. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to it.

"It's the Citadel, the Combine base of operations." Samuel replied, "Where have you been for the last twenty-five years, man?" Gordon shook his head, "I don't know that myself." He muttered.

The train stopped as a large gate lifted up in front of it. Gordon caught a glimpse of the men standing at the gate. Tall, with strange black gasmasks that seemed to run into their black body armour. They had grenades in their belts, and were holding sleek SMGs, and looked perfectly comfortable using them. There were large radio-like devices on their backs, with antennae going from the upper back to the head.

Gordon didn't even need to ask Samuel who they were.

He could already tell by the alien look of their uniforms that they weren't Earth-based. He could tell that they worked for the Combine.

The train passed through into a city, cutting through ruined apartment buildings and tunnels. "Is the whole city like this?" asked Gordon, watching homeless people fervently scavenging through ruins.

"No." said Samuel, "The Combine's, uh, fixed up a bit of the city and that's basically where everybody lives in communal apartments." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "The police near the train-stations; the Metrocops, just gun down innocent people for fun and raid apartments when they're bored." He changed his voice back to normal, "At least, that's what I've been told."

The train pulled into a large stone building with a curved roof; some sort of train-station. The doors opened and the passengers piled out. Gordon stayed sitting down, thinking. As Samuel stepped out of the door, he looked back at Gordon. "You coming?" he asked. "I guess so." Gordon replied slowly.

As he got out of the train, he took in his surroundings all at once. More of those Combine soldiers were here, except there was a difference. Their uniforms were dirtier; less dignified and sleek than the soldiers.

Their gasmasks were white with black eye holes, instead of the black masks and red eyes of the soldiers he had seen, and opposed to the grenades and sub machine guns of the soldiers they had held batons crackling with electricity and had small pistols in their belts.

Gordon took a deep breath in…and nearly choked. He coughed and spluttered, before hastily putting his gasmask on and tightening the strap on the back. The difference was _amazing_. What had been dirty and poisonous air was now cleaner than the air in an air-freshener commercial.

He took a tentative step onto the platform, before entirely exiting the train and watching it pull away from the platform back the way it had come. Now he had to go forward. Gordon walked cautiously through a small entrance, littered by empty cans and plastic bags.

The train-station Combine, the Metrocops, sat around, bored, sometimes whacking citizens with their batons randomly or hauling them off for questioning. Gordon turned the corner and saw a long line of people wearing the blue jumpsuit and gasmask that seemed to be a sort of uniform.

Gordon joined the line, and saw Samuel was in front of him. Suddenly, Gordon saw a tall, cloaked _thing_ with a large machine like a vacuum cleaner walking up and down the platform. Suddenly, a Headcrab leapt from the top of a train. The thing sprang into life, pointing its' vacuum at the headcrab and activating it.

Wait, no, it wasn't a vacuum.

It was a flamethrower.

The headcrab was charred like a steak. The thing slowly lowered its' flamethrower and continued patrolling the platform. Gordon looked away.

The line was moving moderately fast, with some people being told to go through the main entrance into the city, and others being taken into small rooms adjoining the platform by tough-looking Metrocops.

Finally, the line reached Samuel. The Metrocop studied him for a minute. "Where's your SRC?" he asked Samuel after a while, "My what?" asked Samuel cautiously.

"Your Standard Relocation Coupon." The Metrocop replied, firmly. Samuel stuttered as he spoke, "I-I don't have one, sir." The Metrocop studied him for a moment, before making a gesture at Samuel with his fingers.

Another Metrocop walked over to Samuel, "You, citizen! Come with me." He said in a deep voice, before dragging him off into one of the rooms. Samuel looked around helplessly, before disappearing behind the locked door.

Gordon walked slowly backwards. He definitely didn't have an SRC, and he did _not_ want to be taken into one of those rooms by a Metrocop.

He slithered out of the line and looked around carefully. He spotted what he was looking for; A _back door._

Gordon waited for the Metrocop at the front of the line to start talking to another citizen, before moving quietly backwards, away from the Metrocops.

Across the platform from where his train had pulled in was a blue door, with faded white letters spelling out FACTORIES. Gordon slowly walked towards it, looking over his shoulder at the Metrocops.

Suddenly, he heard a gruff voice ring out, "You, citizen! Get away from there!" He ran for it. Gordon pushed himself through the door and collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily.

* * *

So, there you have it. My new project, which will be significantly longer than Blue Shift/Guard Duty. BS/GD was a 'novella', _**Resistance**_ is a novel. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

 _ **NEXT CHAPTER: "SLAVE LABOUR"**_


	2. Slave Labour

CHAPTER TWO: SLAVE LABOUR

Gordon's breathing slowed to normal, but that's when they started to bash against the door. "Metropolice! Open up!"

Gordon looked around helplessly, struggling to find something to block the door with. As he strayed from the entrance, something on the other side started beeping.

Faster.

And faster.

And faster still.

Gordon fell back as the door flew open with a bang, a Metrocop, pistol in hand, waded in through the smoke.

It approached Gordon, obviously thinking that he was unconscious.

He thought wrong.

Gordon leapt up from the ground, grabbing the Metrocop's wrist holding the pistol and twisting it until he let go. Gordon hooked his left foot around the man's ankle and slowly knelt down to grab the pistol.

Once he had it in his grasp he pulled his foot back, sending his enemy to the ground. Gordon booted the door shut, before butting the man in the head with his gun and shooting him for good measure.

Well, it looked like the skills he had back at Black Mesa hadn't left him after all.

Gordon put the gun inside one of the pockets in his jumpsuit and kept walking down the long, dark hallway that stretched ahead.

Suddenly, he remembered his gas-mask, and took it off, putting it around his neck.

He could hear noises, like machinery, and the deep voice of a Metrocop barking orders.

Suddenly, a small robot flew around the corner. It was round and dark grey, with a slight pink hue towards the large yellow electronic eye in the center.

As it moved, there were clicks and then white flashes, almost as if it was a sort of… _floating camera?_

Gordon decided that he probably shouldn't be seen by it after killing a Metrocop.

The machine flew past him, oblivious to the man in the corner with a gun. Gordon slowly crept up on it once its' eye was pointing the other way.

 _3…2…1_!

Gordon jumped up to the machine and managed to grab hold of the loose wires on the back. The scanner began to beep uncontrollably.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Gordon grunted as he lifted his other hand up to smash it with the butt of his pistol.

The machine dropped to the ground, breaking into pieces. Gordon saw a plate of metal with 'COMBOT' marked down in white.

 _Combot?_

 _Combine…robot?_

Gordon turned the corner.

A Metrocop patrolled a factory floor, barking orders at children in green jumpsuits instead of blue.

The children seemed to be attaching the heads of that strange flamethrower thing he had seen outside to its' large cloaked body.

He _knew_ it had been a robot.

Combots swarmed around the air, watching the children work.

Gordon certainly didn't want to go this way.

Something shiny and metallic caught his eye;

A vent.

He pulled the pistol out of his pocket, trying to make as little noise as possible.

One bullet did nothing.

Two did nothing.

Neither did three.

Gordon started unloading his whole clip at the vent.

Suddenly, the spot he had been shooting at snapped at the force of seventeen bullets, and half the vent casing fell onto the ground with a clang.

Yeah, he wasn't being quiet.

"Hey, citizen! You!"

The Metrocop had spotted him, and so had the Combots. The children were glancing around excitedly.

Gordon was trying to climb up into the vent.

He got a foothold on the rough brick walls, before shoving his left hand, the one without the gun, into the vent, grabbing hold of the gnarled metal that was still inside.

The Metrocop had his gun out.

 _Shit_.

Gordon used a final bit of strength to pull himself up…

…and hit his head on the roof of the vent.

"Shit. Shit. _Shit_." He muttered as he crawled quickly through the vent, cradling his head.

The Metrocop fired into the vent once.

Twice.

The shot had a chance of hitting Gordon, but the ringing noise was what Gordon was worried about.

Because it was loud.

And it wasn't stopping.

Gordon put his fingers in his ears and crawled on his elbows through the vent.

Three times.

" _PISS OFF!_ " he called back at the Metrocop.

Then he realized it was his own gun that was being fired when he squashed his hand against the metal.

Gordon Freeman was a _dumbass._

An undisputed fact by both himself and many ex-girlfriends.

He saw light at the end of tunnel, and crawled quicker.

The vent seemed to come out into another hallway, filled with large windows looking into other rooms.

Parts of the factory.

Gordon kicked the metal once.

Twice.

Third time's the charm.

Gordon dropped into the hallway, before straightening up and continuing down the hallway, gun at the ready.

He looked through the large windows into a room full of people in green jumpsuits, fully grown adults this time, typing on stenographs.

 _What?_

Yeah, typing on stenographs.

 _Um…_

Gordon continued down the hallway, moderately confused.

He turned the corner and saw two Metrocops off-duty. They were laughing and talking, their guns at their sides.

He aimed slowly, and fired.

The glass behind the first Metrocop cracked.

"Huh?" he muttered as he turned around.

Gordon fired again.

The Metrocop fell through the glass, breaking a human-sized hole in the window.

The second Metrocop looked around quickly before bolting down the hallway.

Gordon decided to let him go.

He'd catch up later anyway.

He walked forward and peered through the broken window.

He felt slightly bad about the Metrocop.

The room was full of… _anorexic people_?

No.

Mutants.

The Combine was mutating humans.

Red laser beams shot out of the heads of the uniquely thin people in the room, welding things on a conveyer belt together.

The body of the Metrocop lay, blackened like a burnt steak on the ground.

Gordon looked away.

He had seen some pretty horrifying things at Black Mesa, even done some of them himself, but he'd never seen anything like this.

He continued down the hallway, gun in hand. As he turned the corner, he heard a familiar noise. One that he hadn't heard for a _long_ time.

One that made him keep his hands firmly on his gun.

The sound of a Vortigaunt.

Gordon moved slowly into the next hallway, and looked out through the windows.

There was a strange green, cylindrical device in the middle of the room. Actually, there was a row of them.

Metrocops stood overseeing lines of Vortigaunts moving slowly into the devices. The Metrocops then activated the device.

After about five minutes they deactivated the device, and pulled the Vortigaunts' corpse out of the machine, ushering in the next.

Gordon was starting to get an idea of what the Combine had done to Earth.

He didn't like it.

The hallway was a dead end.

Ah.

Suddenly, a Vortigaunt saw him, and began pointing up to him.

"Garjung. Garjung." It said, its' bound hands crackling with green lightning.

Others began to join in, until every Vortigaunt was 'Gar-jung'ing. \

They didn't seem to want to kill him, and that made since seeing he'd killed the last thing that made them enslaved.

The Metrocop said something harshly, and Gordon smiled.

He'd just made the Vortigaunts rebel.

A Metrocop reached at the first Vortigaunt, and Gordon fired.

The bullet flew through the window and hit the Metrocop right in the side, sending him sprawling.

Gordon climbed through the window, then dropped down.

The Vortigaunts stood back, giving him a wide berth.

The first Vort looked at him, "The Freeman," it said, "Our savior."

The other Vortigaunts, including the first, kneeled at his feet.

Gordon didn't know what to think.

"Guys, you don't need to…" he said, exasperated, but just left it be.

The Metrocop in the corner moaned.

"Shut up, dickhead."

He shot the Metrocop in the head.

"Which way do I go to get out of here?"

The Vortigaunt pointed at a vent in the corner of the room.

"That will bring you out in a garage, Freeman. I do not doubt you will find your way from there. There is nothing the Freeman cannot handle."

Gordon shrugged, embarrassed.

"Uh, see you guys, I guess?"

"Goodbye, Freeman." Said the Vortigaunt, "And if we ever meet again, I am Gup-da, the third."

Gordon nodded to him. A metal pipe lay on the floor. He picked it up and smashed the vent with it.

The light metal snapped inwards. He pulled it out, then jumped into the vent and began crawling.

He spent a while crawling. It wasn't very fun.

He saw light.

Pushing the vent open, he found himself in a mechanic's garage.

A large shuttle lay right in the middle of the room. It was entirely black, with the Combine logo on the side.

Suddenly, he heard the door open, and crouched down beside the shuttle.

Two Metrocops had come into the room, talking.

"Hey, where you at on your Beating Quota?"

" _Way_ over it. That guy Calhoun is so far behind. He's soft."

 _Calhoun?_

Gordon Freeman had once known someone called Calhoun. But…was it the same one?

He pulled his gun from his pocket.

"Alright," said the Metrocop, "I think the paint and bodywork is all done, so let's start on the rocket thrusters."

The second Metrocop was coming dangerous close to Gordon.

He fired.

The Metrocop fell to the ground.

The first one looked up, "Hey dude, did you trip on something?" He walked over to the second Metrocop's body.

Gordon fired again.

Business taken care of, he straightened himself and left the garage, hiding his pistol in his pocket once more.

He was now in a back alleyway of City 17.

Citizens stood around, gasmasks on. Gordon quickly pulled his on, and breathed the fresh air inside.

Metrocops patrolled the streets, batons at the ready, looking for any reason to bash someone.

Gordon walked out of the alley onto the main road.

As he kept walking, he saw four citizens lined up against the wall with their backs facing the Metrocops that stood behind them, pointing guns at them.

Gordon got closer.

"Did you graffiti this symbol?" he asked, pointing at…a _lambda?_

The citizens nodded.

"Resistance is punishable my execution…or mutation."

Gordon kept watching.

The Metrocop chuckled, "I'll take the liberty of choosing for you."

He signaled the other Metrocops. They readied their guns.

"Fire!" yelled the Metrocop. The citizens fell to the ground.

"Well," said the Metrocop, "Good job, guys. I have a feeling that one of these days we'll accidentally execute a Greek teacher."

His buddies laughed.

Gordon quickly moved away from the alley, crossing the road hastily.

 _Writing down a lambda was punishable by death_?

 _Or…mutation._

Gordon kept going, looking for _something_ to do, _somewhere_ to go.

Then, he saw a tank.

A huge Combine tank was rolling down the road.

A Chamillionaire song came to mind.

Gordon continued down the street warily.

Then, he saw it.

A large column covered in screens, with the same face on each one.

That was the face of his old Administrator at Black Mesa.

And now he was known as the 'Consul'.

Gordon walked closer. There was a large statue of the Consul in the center of a fountain.

A sign read, 'CONSUL PLAZA'.

 _Could've worked that out myself._

Gordon walked towards the screens.

"A good citizen," proclaimed the Consul, "…reports anything suspicious they see to authorities immediately. Resistance will only worsen your situation."

Gordon kept walking.

 _Who put the entire planet in his hands, anyway?_

Gordon heard loud electronic music playing in the distance.

 _What is that?_

He was greeted with a large red building, with big black letters up the top, spelling out;

'THE MANHACK ARCADE'

* * *

So, yeah.

This chapter was hard to write, because I was trying to make two thousand words (or just about) out of, like, a paragraph in the Wiki. I think I did a good job. Correct me if I'm wrong xD.

 ** _NEXT CHAPTER: SLAVE LABOUR_**


	3. Friendly Faces

CHAPTER THREE: FRIENDLY FACES

 _Manhack Arcade?_

Gordon contemplated the name of the large building as he strolled in curiously and hung his gasmask around his neck. Five red screens lay in a semi-circle formation, with a pair of large goggles the same colour, and a joystick-and-button controller.

Virtual Reality Gaming.

VR had just been getting popular around the Incident, but obviously 25 years into the future it was the norm.

Lines of people stood behind each console waiting their turn.

A man with scraggly brown hair and a beard walked into the arcade. Gordon quickly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey," he said quietly, "What's this game?"

The man looked at him for a minute, "Just got off the train?"

"Yeah. They don't have them in…" Gordon racked his brain, "City 14."

The man pointed at the screen, "That's there for people to see what the gamer sees. The gamer, however," he tapped his temple, "They see it all through the goggles. It's a much better experience with them on."

Gordon nodded, "Go on." He said.

The man kept speaking, "So, basically, you play as the 'Manhack', okay?" "Yeah" Gordon nodded.

"So, you get missions from your advisor, who basically tells you who to go around killing. Once you kill someone you get points. It's fun."

Gordon nodded uneasily, "Right."

The man said goodbye and headed for one of the lines.

Gordon observed the lines for the machines. The shortest line had one gamer, and one person otherwise. Gordon strolled over and joined the lines.

"Um…" he asked the guy in front of him, "What are the controls?"

The man turned around and grinned, "First time at the arcade, huh?"

Gordon pretended to grin sheepishly, "Yeah. Just got here from City 14." He lied.

The man nodded, "You can go in front if you like, I've been here for a few hours. I got off work early."

Gordon smiled graciously, "Thanks."

The man shrugged, "No problem."

The gamer suddenly stood up from the console and left to go to the back of the line.

Gordon turned to the nice guy who had let him in front.

"How do you know when to stop playing?" he asked.

"When you don't complete enough missions to keep going." Replied the man, "Now play it, come on!"

Gordon stepped forward and put on the goggles.

Suddenly, his world became the eyes of the Manhack. He could feel the controller in his hands, and began to move forward. A message popped up in the corner.

"There's a citizen down on West Street. He's committed heinous crimes against the Combine. Kill him."

Gordon found West Street, and moved forward. Blades began to swing from his body, and the man began running.

"The hacks are after me!" he screamed as he ran.

Gordon moved faster, intent on at least completing _one_ mission.

The man tripped, and sprawled.

Gordon moved in.

The man's neck began to squirt blood as Gordon cut deeper, until his entire head had been separated from his body except for the esophagus.

The man's eyes were blank, and his mouth was frozen in a scream. A second mission popped up.

Gordon accepted.

His Manhack moved swiftly through the streets, until he found his guy, leaning against the wall of an alley.

The guy ran.

Gordon chased once more.

The guy screamed, "No! I just need to find Freeman!"

Gordon froze.

He slowly put down the goggles and controller.

"I'm leaving." He said stiffly.

"What's wrong, buddy?" asked the guy at the back of the line.

"The blood too much for you?"

"Fuck. Off." Gordon growled at him.

He left the Arcade quickly, walking back into the plaza with the statues of the Consul.

"A good citizen does their part for humanity, and works in the factories so generously supplied by our Combine overlords to give us something to do for our daily toil."

Gordon shook his head in disgust. He pulled his pistol out of his pocket and began to reload it, glancing around guiltily.

He put the gun back in his pocket and quickly put on his gasmask. Suddenly, a deep voice rung out;

"You, citizen!"

Gordon looked around, and saw a Metrocop looking at him.

His heart raced. _Had the Metrocop seen the gun?_

He stood up.

"Yes, you!" yelled the Metrocop, "Come with me!"

Gordon walked to the Metrocop, who grabbed his hands and shoved them behind his back.

"Let's go. Start walking."

The Metrocop hauled him into an alleyway, and then pushed him through a door, closing it roughly behind him.

The Metrocop reached up and began pulling off his gasmask. Gordon did the same…

…and sighed in relief, for the face behind the mask was the face of none other than Barney Calhoun.

He had wavy black hair and stubble on his cheeks. He also looked forty-five.

 _Barney Calhoun was forty-five?_

"Barney?" he gasped. Barney nodded.

"Yeah, sorry for that little show but there's other Metrocops everywhere. And, I see you found yourself a little toy?"

Gordon nodded.

"Where've you been all these years?" he asked, bringing Gordon into a hug.

Gordon shrugged, "I'm not sure of that myself."

Barney studied him for a minute; "You do realize that you're a wanted man, right?"

Gordon's brow furrowed as Barney elaborated.

"Whatever the fuck you did back at Black Mesa made you a hero. You saved the world from an alien invasion. The last place on Earth you were seen was…"

"…The Lambda Complex." Gordon muttered, everything piecing itself together slowly.

Barney kept talking, "Now, people used that symbol, the Lambda, as a symbol of rebellion against invasion, so when the Combine arrived, the Vorts treated you like Jesus and everyone else was waiting for you to turn up and kill all the Combine."

"The Combine learnt your name and boom, you're a wanted man for starting a Resistance you don't know about."

Gordon sighed, "Seriously? I just can't catch a break."

Barney laughed, "Look, Gordon, I gotta get back to work. There's someone who probably wants to see you." Barney put his mask back on, his voice now deep and electronic.

"Take this," said Barney, handing Gordon a slip of paper. "Go down into the sewers, and head left, right, left, forward, left, right, left, right." Gordon chuckled nervously, "Could you write that down?"

"Check the paper, I have." Barney replied, "Once you get there, knock three times. When someone knocks back, say these exact words 'The satellite launched from Lambda looked lovely from afar.'"

Gordon looked at him, baffled.

"It's just some random sentence Dr. Kleiner came up with."

Gordon raised his eyebrows, "Dr. Kleiner? As in, _Isaac Kleiner_?"

Barney laughed, "Yeah, he'll want to see you. He's doing pretty well for eighty-two."

Gordon's mouth opened wide, "He's _eighty- two?_ "

Barney laughed again, "Just because you still look twenty-seven doesn't mean the rest of us are."

Barney crossed the room and lifted up a large manhole in the ground.

"Climb down that ladder and follow the instructions. I'll meet you there."

As Gordon was climbing down the ladder, Barney looked at him again, "Oh, Gordon?" Gordon looked up, "Yeah?" Barney shifted his feet uneasily, "You weren't, uh, playing that Manhack game, were you?"

Gordon raised an eyebrow, "Yeah I was actually, why?"

Barney looked at the floor, "It's real. It's not a game."

Gordon nodded solemnly, "Yeah, I guessed that."

Barney looked up, "How?" he asked.

Gordon looked him right in the eye, "Because some guy said he had to find 'Freeman.'"

And with that, he dropped down into the sewers.

Gordon wished he had a flashlight.

Unfortunately, he didn't.

He waded through the disgusting, dirty water, and, suddenly, the smell hit him like a fist, and he quickly pulled his gasmask on tight.

As Gordon continued through the large tunnels, he began to wonder if the only things down here _were_ sewage.

He kept hearing strange scuttling noises.

 _Probably nothing._

He heard more scuttling around.

 _It isn't nothing._

Gordon bolted down the tunnel.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Forward.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

He saw a red ladder leading up to a manhole, and climbed as quick as he can. Gordon was now fully aware of what the scuttling sound was.

 _Headcrabs._

He bashed on the manhole cover, one hand still gripping the ladder.

"Let me in!" he yelled, muffled by the gasmask and muffled further by the cover in the first place.

Suddenly, the manhole cover swung open.

Gordon jumped and rolled out, catching his breath.

He was aware of gunfire in the distance, and had a pang of realization.

 _He could've just used his gun._

Oh well.

The person shooting kicked the manhole shut as a Headcrab leapt upwards, before helping Gordon to his feet. Only now, did he see who had saved him.

He was happy he had.

A pale-skinned woman with long red hair tied back into a bun stood in front of him. She wore a dark green fur coat and black jeans, with a grey belt holding a large broken pipe and her recently holstered gun.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Alyx Vance."

Gordon racked his brain for the name.

"Who-what-?" he stuttered.

Alyx smiled a beautiful smile, "I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Freeman."

Gordon was still dumbfounded.

"Man of few words aren't you?" she asked, grinning.

He finally found his voice, "Hi." He said, breathing heavily.

She laughed again, the most amazing sound Gordon had ever heard.

"Come on. Dr. Kleiner's waiting for you in the lab."

As they walked, Gordon began to speak to himself.

"Isaac Kleiner," he mused, "Eighty-two years old."

They came to a large metal door, which Alyx knocked on.

"The satellite launched from Lambda looked lovely from afar." She said, over-pronouncing every syllable.

The door slid open into what seemed to be a repurposed garage. A huge machine stood in the center of the room, a large tube with a blue platform in the middle. A control panel was in front of it, covered in all different types of buttons and switches.

Papers and other items littered the rest of the room which was mostly desks containing large monitors, and crates of Dr. Kleiner's stuff. The things that caught Gordon's eye were the photos of the Anomalous Materials team framed and hung, and the HEV suit charger built into the wall on the left.

Barney stood near the door, typing something onto a keyboard and then checking the screen of a monitor.

"Hey, Barney," said Gordon, "How'd you get here so fast?"

Barney looked up, "Oh, hey Gordon. Nah, I just took the front entrance. That room I took you into? Yeah, it's down the hall from this place."

Gordon looked at him, open-mouthed. "You dickhead."

Barney grinned, "You're welcome."

Alyx cleared her throat, "Dr. Kleiner?"

Kleiner held up his hand without even turning around.

"Sorry, Alyx, I'm in the middle of a critical test. The teleport is almost completely functional."

Barney spoke next, "Dr. Kleiner, there's someone here to see you."

Kleiner held up his hand again, "How many times have I asked you to stop just dragging people in here off the streets like stray cats?"

Alyx glared at Kleiner and her voice turned stern, "Isaac Kleiner, turn around and look who's come to see you."

Kleiner tut-tutted impatiently; "Fine, but it's just a waste of-" he stopped talking. His jaw dropped.

"Gordon…Freeman." He gasped. "It's…It's been a while."

Gordon nodded, "It has indeed."

Dr. Kleiner walked over and pulled him into a hug.

"You're not looking too bad for eighty-two." Gordon remarked, cheekily.

"You're looking amazing for fifty-two." Remarked Dr. Kleiner, "Seriously, Gordon, how do you do it?"

Gordon shrugged, "I don't know."

Kleiner waved his hand in the air dismissively, "Doesn't matter anyway. You're a wanted man here, so we're going to send you down to Doctor Mossman at Kraken Base."

Gordon held up a hand, "Wait…Helena Mossman? The woman who applied for my position at Black Mesa…?"

Kleiner cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Yes… _that_ Mossman."

Gordon shrugged uneasily, "I…okay."

Kleiner nodded, "I'll initialize the teleporter. You go and slip that HEV suit on, fill it with new batteries, do whatever you need to do."

Gordon stepped up to the HEV suit on the wall. He slowly put his legs in one by one, then his arms, and finally, did up the metal buckle on his neck.

The suit beeped, "Welcome to the Hazardous Environment Suit Mark Six." Dr. Kleiner came over and bashed it with a screwdriver.

He noticed the alarmed expression and Gordon's face, and casually remarked, "That voice always annoyed me anyway."

Gordon chuckled, "Yeah, me too. By the way, whatever happened to Eli Maxwell?"

Kleiner nodded, "Ah, yes. He's perfectly alive and well, seventy-five years old and kicking."

Gordon nodded, "I remember Mossman was in her late forties when she tried for the position, how old is she now?" Kleiner thought for a minute, "Um… Seventy-two? Seventy-three? I honestly don't know."

Kleiner pressed a button on the control panel in front of the teleporter. It began to warm up, "Get ready, Gordon. We'll send you through soon." He typed a few words on a computer, and the face of Helena Mossman flickered onto the screen. She looked good for her old age, with short blonde hair and a purple cardigan.

"Guess what?" asked Kleiner.

"Yes, Isaac?" said Mossman, wearily.

"Gordon Freeman's finally shown up!" he exclaimed.

Mossman looked stunned, "Really?"

Kleiner nodded, "Yes. Here he is now."

Gordon walked over to the monitor, "Hello, Doctor Mossman."

She nodded her head, "Freeman."

She looked back to Kleiner, "But where will he go?"

Kleiner looked uneasy, "Well…we were going to send him straight to you at Kraken Base."

Mossman rubbed her hands together, "Excellent."

Kleiner moved the screen to one side.

"Oh, Gordon?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yes?" replied Gordon.

"There's a crowbar in the corner, you can have it if you like."

Gordon picked up the crowbar, put it in his belt, and stood on the blue platform of the teleporter.

"Ready." He said.

Barney pressed a few buttons, "Ready."

Alyx adjusted some dials, "Ready."

Kleiner touched a few buttons, "Teleportation sequence initialized."

Suddenly, coils of green light wrapped themselves around Gordon, and began to lift him into the air. "Oh god…" he said, "Here we go…"

His vision flashed green and black, and he was in a cold, metal room. Mossman stood there with a short, balding man with ODELL written on the nametag of a blue tracksuit.

"Welcome, Doctor Freeman. I trust you will-"

But Mossman was cut off, as Gordon appeared once more in Kleiner's lab.

"Something's gone wrong." Said Alyx, "Close it down, Doctor Kleiner."

Kleiner was tapping hastily away at the console, "Shutting down, shutting down. Why won't it-?"

An almighty burst of sparks exploded from the console, hitting Kleiner square in the face. He fell to the ground, his head bleeding.

Gordon fell to the floor as well, the teleporter out of action.

Suddenly, alarms started bleeping.

"Shit, we've given off a signal so strong that the Combine know you're here." Barney muttered, "Quickly, climb out the window. Smash it with your crowbar."

Gordon ran up to the window and smashed it with his crowbar, "What about Kleiner?" he asked. Barney looked at the unconscious form on the ground, "We'll figure something out. I want you to head through the wasteland, find Eli Maxwell's lab."

Suddenly, someone started bashing on the metal door. "Metropolice, open up!"

The door started beeping.

"Go, Gordon, quickly!" said Alyx.

Gordon nodded at them.

"Good luck, guys."

And leapt out the window onto the street, crowbar in hand.

* * *

Did you know that Isaac Kleiner was meant to _die_ during the teleport malfunction? Don't worry, I'm not *that* mean :P

Fav, review, follow. I'll see ya tomorrow. (Or the next day, or the one after that)

 _ **NEXT CHAPTER: WASTELAND BLUES**_


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